


dance; to feel alive

by carrotstix, pineapplejean



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dance, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Genderfluid Fujisaki Chihiro, LGBTQ Character, Multi, Slow Burn, dance au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-16 21:08:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29213919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carrotstix/pseuds/carrotstix, https://archiveofourown.org/users/pineapplejean/pseuds/pineapplejean
Summary: Makoto has been dancing for the Hope’s Peak Chicago Dance Company for three years when Kirigiri Kyoko joins as their newest member. When a series of incidental events leads them to be paired for their first partner dance, Makoto quickly realizes there’s a lot more to her than he first thought.(or, i decided for some reason this fandom needed a dance au)
Relationships: (Past) Kirigiri Kyoko/Celestia Ludenberg, Fujisaki Chihiro & Naegi Makoto, Kirigiri Kyoko/Naegi Makoto, Kuwata Leon/Maizono Sayaka
Kudos: 5





	dance; to feel alive

**Author's Note:**

> hello to everybody who may be on my user subscriptions. if you’re wondering when the hell i got into danganronpa, i would also like to know. i do have a few other things planned for other fandoms i’m into/have worked on before (legacies, mcu, my supergirl au, etc) but this is what stuck itself in my head recently and demanded to be written.  
> 

_ “You have to love dancing to stick to it. It gives you nothing back, no manuscripts to store away, no paintings to show on walls and maybe hang in museums, no poems to be printed and sold, nothing but that single fleeting moment when you feel alive.” _

Merce Cunningham

—

The week after their company’s first show of the season ended, Makoto had two bombshells dropped on him, and it started with his best friend coming into town.

Sayaka arrived on a Saturday evening, half an hour after Makoto got off rehearsals. He had to book it to the airport in order to make it on time, throwing a jacket on over his tee shirt and leggings before heading to his car. With his luck, it’s no surprise he nearly tripped down the stairs on the way there, but he made it into his car intact and jetted off.

Thankfully, he pulled into the pick-up lane just in time. Less than a minute later, he caught sight of Sayaka slipping out the baggage claim sliding doors. He almost didn’t recognize her, between the sunglasses obscuring her face and the hat most of her hair was tucked under. To her credit, her attempt at making it through the airport without being noticed seemed to be working. If he hadn’t known her for more than a decade, Makoto himself might not have been able to recognize her.

She picked him out right away. Or, rather, she picked out his ride, an old, boxy green Kia that was rather easy to spot among the more commonplace and newer vehicles. Grinning, he popped the trunk before he hopped out to help her with her luggage. They reached the back of the car and the same time, and she let go of her suitcases to wrap her arms around him in a hug.

He allowed himself a small sigh. After all, it was the first actual contact they’d shared in over a year, maybe two. Between her recording sessions and tours and various musical commitments, she’d been a nonstop busy train. His rehearsal schedule with Hope’s Peak didn't help matters, either. With the both of them always moving in different directions, aligning up their free time for long enough to see each other had been a near impossible task.

However, with the end of Sayaka’s tour lining up with the final performance of his first show of the season, they’d taken the chance while they had it. He had almost expected it to fall through at the last minute, but she had assured him she was commitment free for several weeks.  _ At this point, it would take nothing short of a catastrophic event to stop me from coming,  _ she’d joked. Even still, he hadn’t quite believed it until she’d collided with him, and now he can’t help but feel just a little more relaxed. 

She pulled back with a smile, but he could already see the teasing glint lingering in her eyes. “I always forget how short you are,” she remarked. Despite himself, he felt his cheeks grow warm.

“You’re not that much taller than me, you’re just wearing heels,” he objected, but it sounded weak even to him. While there was a definite inch or two on the bottom of her boot, they both knew she was still a significant bit taller than him without it.

Lucky for his dignity, she chose not to call that out. Instead, she pushed open the trunk of the Kia to load up one of her suitcases. Makoto reached out to grab the other one, sliding it in beside it’s twin, before he slammed the entire trunk closed.

Once the luggage was stowed away, the two of them climbed into the front of the car. As they pulled out of the airport and towards his apartment, she tilted down the passenger side visor where he keeps his CD holder, glancing through to see what he has.   
“Aw, you have my latest CD,” she said. “You have them all, that’s so sweet.”

“Sayaka, you knew I had those,” he replied. “You sent me some of them.”

She hummed in response. “Well, it’s still sweet that you keep them in your car. At least you can pretend to listen to them.”

“Hey!” He protested. “I do listen to your CDs.”

She laughed. “I know,” she assured him. “You’re still just so easy to poke at.” 

Makoto rolled his eyes, but his lips curled up in the corner. Sayaka grinned at him and took the moment to adjust the beanie on her head, pulling her blue hair free and over her shoulder. Even with the hat still on and her oversized sunglasses covering half her face, she was instantly more recognizable as the girl who made up one fifth of the pop group taking magazine covers by storm.

“You aren’t afraid someone will notice you?” He asked.

“I doubt anybody will be looking that hard through your car windows,” she said. “And your building has an attached garage, we’ll be fine. Besides, I need to get my hair dyed back to a normal color in the next few weeks, I may as well do it while I’m here. Who’s going to recognize me without this mane?”

She bounced her hair as she spoke, and Makoto chuckled. “They’re making you dye it to a normal color, huh?”

“Well, they said I could do a wig, but I didn’t want to put it on and take it off for every show.”

“Ah, yes, the show,” He echoed. In time with her tour coming to an end, Sayaka had been cast as the female lead in one of Broadway’s newer shows,  _ Hangman’s Gambit _ . She would be taking over the role in a few weeks, once the actress originating it stepped down. “Moving to New York and hitting the stage, it’s so exciting.”

Sayaka brushed it off with a small scoff, but she smiled anyway. “It’s just a stunt casting,” she replied. “They only cast me in hopes that name recognition will draw people in.”

“That’s still impressive!” Makoto insisted. “Not only do they think you’re talented enough for the role, they also think you’re a big enough star to help it get bigger.”

“I guess you’re right,” she admitted, starting to beam. “I have missed your optimism, Makoto. I can’t wait to be stuck with it for a week.”

“Me too— wait, stuck?!”

Sayaka laughed the last two minutes home.

-

As she’d assured him, they made it the rest of the way back to his building without Sayaka being recognized. He was still a little nervous that she'd get spotted and hunted down on the way up to his apartment, but they arrived there with no issue. With Leon still at the studio, the only person home was Hiro, but he perked up when he saw her walk through the door.

“Hey Sayaka-chan,” he greeted. “Welcome home!”

It’d become a habit of his, to offer the same ‘welcome home’ to each person that passed through their doorway, regardless of their residency in the apartment or the amount of time they spent there. The way he said it was so casual, however, that most people weren’t even phased, Sayaka included.   
“Hey, Hiro,” she replied. “What’s new?”

“Nothing much,” he answered back. “Thinking about ordering a pizza.”

His dinner plans probably weren’t the update she was expecting, but she smiled at him anyway before Makoto led her into his room to drop off her things. She sent him a wink as he opened the roll, earning her a roll of the eyes in response.

“Wow, Makoto, inviting me into your room?” She teased, high voice tinged with a giggle. “How forward!”

“You know that’s not what I’m doing,” he said, cheeks turning a slight shade of pink regardless. It only served to make her laugh as they dragged her suitcases inside his room. After tucking them against the wall, Sayaka flopped down onto the air mattress on the floor.

“Makoto,” she said, flipping around to look up at him. “I am so  _ sick  _ of traveling.”

“You say that, but you love going on tour,” he pointed out. “Once you guys start working on your next album, you’ll be itching to go on tour again.”

She didn’t respond, not in the way he expected her to. There was no grin or chuckle, just a dour moment of silence as she glanced away, frown drawing across her face. He blinked, a little taken aback.

“Sayaka?” He asked, voice soft. “Is something wrong?”

The popstar pulled a smile onto her face as she looked back up at him, but it shook on the edges. It would look real to most, but Makoto had known her long enough to tell it was forced.

“Everything’s fine,” she assured him.

“Sayaka—”

“Really, don’t worry about it. We can talk about it later. Right now, what I would really like to think about is dinner. I’m hungry.”

Makoto sighed, choosing to let it go for the moment. “Me too,” he said. “You’re the one who just got in, do you have any ideas?”

“Hiro’s suggestion of pizza sounded pretty good,” she replied, relaxing when Makoto didn’t press her for why she’d been upset. “I could be in for that?”

“Pizza it is, then,” he agreed. “Hiro will be very excited to split the delivery fee.”

In response, Sayaka laughed, slinging an arm over his shoulder. “Oh, Makoto,” she said. “We both know already that I’m going to pay for the pizza.”

-

Hiro was, predictably, excited to not have to pay for pizza. True to her word, Sayaka paid for pizza, not only for her and the two boys already home, but for Leon as well. The third roommate still hadn’t made it home, presumably still held up at the studio.

He managed to arrive before the pizza did, all but slamming the door open on his way in. The others in the apartment, who had all gathered in the living room, looked up at the sound.

“Hey guys,” he greeted, before his gaze settled on the newest person in the apartment. “Hey, Sayaka-chan. It’s good to see you.”

Sayaka’s mouth curved up into a smile, eyes glinting the same way they did whenever she would tease Makoto. “It’s good to see you too, Kuwa-kun,” she said.

Leon flushed. In all the time Makoto had known him, Sayaka was the only one who had ever used the nickname for him. She was, after all, the inspiration; the first time he had introduced himself, he had stuttered on his last name so badly she’d thought it was Kuwa instead of Kuwata. She’d called him by it ever since, and so far, it had never failed to tinge his cheeks red. With nearly everybody else, he insisted on being referred to by his first name, and his first name only. She was just about the only one who got an exception.

“I’m gonna, uh, throw my stuff down,” he said, jerking his thumb towards his room. He lingered there for a minute before turning on his heel and walking off. Once he had gone, Sayaka let out the smallest giggle, hand coming up to cover her mouth. Makoto sent her a look.

“You can’t help but tease him, can you?” He said.

“I really can’t,” she told him. “It’s just so easy.”

Sayaka and Leon had a unique relationship. There was a spark, a mutual attraction, that sprung up the moment they met, and there was always somewhat of a  _ thing  _ between the two whenever they were around each other. Leon, if asked, would say something about how he knew they would be amazing together, just that the timing was never right. Sayaka, however, would shrug and admit that she found him handsome and attractive and charming, but they just weren’t at the same place. 

It was just rather unfortunate on both sides, and Makoto would be lying if he said he wasn’t hoping it would work out for the two of them one day.

Leon emerged only a few minutes later, his sweatpants and old shirt traded in for a pair of jeans and a tank top. As he made his way to the living room, Hiro and Makoto exchanged knowing glances. After a long day at the studio, Leon always flopped down in whatever he was wearing. The only reason he bothered changing at all was Sayaka’s presence in the apartment.

Sayaka was none the wiser, simply offering him a smile over the glass of water she was drinking. He returned it, flopping into the empty armchair near her.

“So, Miss Broadway,” he began, the words immediately causing her face to start to turn pink. “Are you excited for your upcoming debut?”

“I’m really excited,” she answered, grinning. “The role is really great, and I’ve heard the cast is really nice. The ones I’ve met so far have been, at least. I wish I could say the same for the critics.”

“The critics?” Hiro repeated. “You haven’t even started the show!”

She shrugged. “There’s already plenty of them who aren’t happy about my casting,” she explained. “They think I’m going to ruin the show because I was only cast because I’m already famous.”

“I bet most of those people writing those articles have never even seen you perform, they’re just upset about you being cast because they have some notion that famous artists don’t have any talents except for the ones they’ve already displayed,” Leon assured her. “Once they see you nail it on stage, they’ll have their minds changed for sure.”

He offered her a warm smile, and she returned it. “Thanks, Leon,” she said. “That means a lot, really.”

Any other conversation was cut short by the doorbell ringing, and Makoto jumped up to answer it. He returned less than a minute later with a stack of pizza boxes, earning cheers from both the other boys in the apartment.

The four of them scarfed down the pizza, making short conversation in between. Between how hungry Sayaka was from traveling and how Makoto had rehearsed through his typical lunchtime in order to feel better about leaving early to pick her up, they demolished an entire pepperoni pie and a half on their own. Combined with Leon and Hiro’s natural appetites, all three pizzas were decimated, nothing left behind in the fridge for later.

Throwing his plate down on the coffee table, Leon slumped back into the couch with a sigh. Makoto mirrored him, head lolling back into the cushions. Admittedly, he might have packed in a slice or two too many, because his stomach felt dangerously close to bursting. When he groaned, Sayaka laughed, before excusing herself to take a shower.

“I need to wash the plane off me,” she joked, before disappearing into Makoto’s room to grab a change of clothes. She emerged only a few moments later, scurrying off to the bathroom with her towel and pajamas in hand.

Once the sound of the shower humming to life started up, the three guys settled further back into their seats. After a moment, Hiro laughed.

“Can you guys believe Sayaka’s really going to be on Broadway?” He asked. “Like, she’s moving to New York and everything. We know a Broadway star, that’s crazy.”

Leon hummed. He opened his mouth to speak, but he seemed to hesitate for a few moments before he actually did. “Well, Sayaka isn’t the only one moving to New York,” he said, and fell silent. When he didn't add onto the ending, Makoto gave him a strange look.

“She isn’t?”

Despite his normally confident attitude, the orange-haired man seemed almost nervous when he glanced over at his roommate. 

“No, she isn’t,” Leon repeated. “Um, I am. In a little more than two weeks or so.”

When Makoto didn't speak, he continued, as if pressured by the silence. “There’s a company up in New York, and I was offered a spot there, so I decided to take it. Wednesday is my last day with Hope’s Peak.”

Makoto stopped, stunned. He took a long moment to simply sit there, trying to process everything he’d just heard. Hiro seemed just as shocked, staring at Leon with wide eyes.

“Yo, you’re moving out?”

“Yeah, I am. I mean, I’m not gonna stick you guys with my portion of the rent the second I do! I’m gonna leave enough money to cover my share for two months or so, at least.”

“That’s crazy, bro. I mean, good for you and all that, but we’re sure gonna miss you!”

“I’ll miss you guys, too. But I don’t wanna miss this opportunity, you know?”

“Makes sense! Best of luck to you, dude!”

“Thanks, Hiro,” Leon replied, glancing at the still quiet Makoto as if he was urging the other boy to say something. He did, once he could find his voice. 

“They’re letting you transfer companies?” Makoto asked, still taken aback by everything that had been thrown at him.

Leon shrugged. “The other company is owned by the Togami family, same as Hope’s Peak,” he explained. “They want to try a new, looser style of jazz, and they want me for it. Plus, it’s in New York…”

As the other man trailed off, realization started to dawn on Makoto. “This is about Sayaka!” He said. It must have come out louder than he meant it to, because Leon frantically shushed him, glancing in the direction of the bathroom. The sound of water pouring from the shower was as loud as ever, and after a long moment of silence, Leon relaxed back into his seat, still sending his friend a death glare.

“Sorry, sorry,” Makoto placated, both hands out in front of him. “But… I was right, wasn’t I?”

Leon glanced away, reaching up to scratch at the back of his head. “It’s not  _ just  _ about Sayaka, but yeah, it doesn't hurt,” he admitted.

“Leon—”

“Makoto, you know how I feel about this,” he continued, when his friend tried to protest. “The timing has never been right. But maybe the problem is that I’ve worked to  _ make  _ the timing right. This is the chance I have to do that. Besides, this is still a great opportunity I want either way. I love Hope’s Peak, of course, but you know I’ve been pushing to branch out more into jazz. I can’t do that here, but I can there.”

Hiro, out of his depth, sat back in his chair and awaited Makoto’s reaction, same as Leon. After a moment, the brown-haired boy pushed a smile, even if it was a little forced.

“I understand,” he said, finally. “And we’ll miss you, but you’re making a good decision, and I’m excited for you.”

Relieved, Leon’s face lit up. “Thanks,” he replied, as if Makoto’s approval was a weight off his chest. “I’m sorry it’s sudden, but it’s just what’s right for me, you know?”

Makoto nodded, even if his chest sank with the knowledge that he was losing one of his best friends as a roommate and colleague in only a matter of weeks.

—

The second bombshell hit only a few days later.

Makoto arrived at the studio by nine fifteen, freshly-showered but still rubbing sleep out of his eyes. Sayaka had convinced the entire apartment to stay up drinking and playing board games. His memories after the third drink are a little hazy, but he distinctly remembers her throwing eight hundred dollars worth of Monopoly money at Leon and telling him to “eat her charity, pretty boy” before building another hotel on one of her properties. The next morning, however, all that energy was gone. She’d done little more than groan and send him a wave when Makoto had told her he was heading out for the day.

Many of the other dancers were just arriving when or around the time that he did. At Hope’s Peak, nothing ever started until ten, but everybody came in at least a bit early to stretch on their own in the mornings. Makoto himself could be running behind in the mornings, but he almost always made it in a half hour before morning warm-up began. He used to hurt his ankle as a kid, and as a result, he liked to spend extra time at the beginning of his day to give it attention to hopefully help protect it from injury.

On his way to the lockers, he sent Junko and Mukuro a wave as they passed him. They both returned it, eerily in sync, as they headed into the room morning rehearsal started in. Even though he wasn’t close with the pair, he had to admit the two of them were incredibly talented. Mukuro moved her body with near perfect control, and Junko managed to make the simplest of movements look graceful. It wasn’t unexpected, considering their background. The two of them had started dance from a young age, with a thick schedule of both group and private lessons. While he’d never talked to either of them in person about it, he knew that they’d also spent time studying at the Royal Ballet School in London, often recognized as one of the most acclaimed schools of dance in the world.

Makoto snapped himself out of his thoughts as he reached his destination. Despite the several people he had seen on his way in, the only one actually at the lockers when he got there was Chihiro. They had already changed, likely at home, and were in the process of stowing their bag. When they heard Makoto approach, Chihiro turned their head and offered him a grin.

“Good morning, Makoto-kun,” they greeted, and Makoto raised his hand in a greeting with a smile.

“Morning, Chihiro-chan,” he said, as he began to stash his belongings and strip off the hoodie he was wearing.

“Did Leon come with you this morning?”

Makoto shook his head. “He didn’t have to get here until later,” he explained. “So he decided he’d rather sleep longer and drive himself in instead.”

Chihiro hummed in response, checking something on their phone as Makoto plunked down on the bench and traded in his socks and sneakers for turning shoes. As he finished getting ready, tucking the last of his clothes away and closing his locker, Chihiro did the same. Picking up a small conversation about what had transpired in Makoto’s apartment last night, they walked over to the practice room to start stretching out.

Junko and Mukuro were already there to greet them, as was Taka. Taka was another one of the male dancers at Hope’s Peak. His dedication, skill, and strong background in ballet made him an incredibly talented member of the company. On the flipside, while his commitment was impressive, it could also be exhausting to attempt to match up to. Nevertheless, Makoto liked him well enough, and the two of them got along.

The fourth person in the room with Kirigiri Kyoko, the newest member of Hope’s Peak. She’d only joined this season. Prior to that, she’d danced with another company that had shared Hope’s Peak owner, the Togami Corporation. He’d seen her dance in the last performance, and she was undeniably talented. Her demeanor, however, was a little strange. She rarely ever spoke unless it was directly relevant to whatever dance was being worked on, keeping to herself in and out of rehearsals. Makoto himself had only spoken twenty words to her, maybe less.

When Makoto and Chihiro entered the room, everybody looked up from their stretches. The sisters offered simple hellos, while Taka offered them an upbeat, if formal, greeting. Kyoko, however, only gave a dip of the head in acknowledgement before turning back to what she was doing. Accustomed to this for the past few months already, both Makoto and Chihiro got down to their usual morning stretches. It wasn’t too long before the rest of the dancers trickled in, and twenty minutes later, the teacher followed.

Warm-ups and morning combinations passed fairly quickly, and afterwards, Makoto headed off to practice his upcoming duet with Hiyoko as the next part of his daily schedule. She was already in the room by the time he arrived, and offered him a cheerful smile when he entered. At the sight of it, he had to hold in a breath of relief; Hiyoko’s mood at the beginning of rehearsal was usually indicative of how she would treat him the rest of the day. Thankfully for him, she seemed to like him in comparison to many of the others in the studio, and he usually got a decent mood from her. The days when she was irritable, however, usually ended with him either taking a sizable hit to his self esteem or going home exhausted from overworking himself in an attempt to prove himself.

Already stretched and ready to go, they got started on the dance right away. It had already been fully choreographed for weeks, and they had the steps memorized, meaning the choreographer had time to work with somebody else on one of their dances.

More than anything, what they really needed to work on was the jumps and lifts. What the two of them were mostly struggling with was the first one, where Hiyoko had to leap into Makoto as he was finishing a turn. Her arm was supposed to go over her shoulders while he used his to hook under the leg she was leading with, grabbing her hip with his free hand at the same time. While the two of them were consistent in getting Hiyoko off the ground, they needed work on keeping the movement flowing without stuttering, and getting her position just right enough for him to properly catch her.

Practice was cut short less than a half hour in, however, when they both heard the shriek from the next room over. It was high-pitched and clearly pained, cutting through the objective quiet they’d been practicing in. At the sound, Hiyoko stiffened, turning her gaze from Makoto to the direction of the noise. He straightened, hands beginning to drift off of her waist and back towards his side.

“That sounded bad,” she said, rather soft for her usual demeanor.

Makoto nodded, staring at the wall as if he could see through it to see what happened. “It sounded like—”

“Fuji-san,” she finished. As if on cue, another cry echoed out, just as loud and horrible as the first one. Without saying another word to each other, Makoto and Hiyoko broke apart, both rushing for the studio beside theirs.

The door was cracked open when they got there. Taka lingering in the frame with a worried look on his face. Gently, Makoto shouldered past him to step into the room, and his heart sank with what he was.

Crumpled on the floor was Chihiro, hunched over their legs and attempting to cradle one of their feet in their hands. There were tears brimming in the corner of their eyes, and while Makoto could tell they were trying to seem strong and keep them in, a few leaked out anyways. They hit the wooden floor in little splashes, but everybody ignored them in favor of Chihiro’s injury. Mukuro crouched down beside them, inspecting the site of the pain. After a moment of consideration, she pressed down on the side of their foot, and Chihiro yelped, more tears slipping down their cheeks.

At that, Mukuro frowned, a line etching into her forehead. “It’s probably a dancer’s fracture,” she said. Makoto winced, both at the diagnosis and the apologetic tone Mukuro delivered it in. Sure, injuries could be worse than a dancer’s fracture, but nearly everybody knew at just the name: Chihiro wouldn’t be dancing for weeks.

And, if they couldn’t dance for that long, they would have to miss the next performance.

As if healing it was as simple as Mukuro changing her mind, Chihiro glanced up at the other dancer with pleading eyes. Apologetic, Mukuro grimaced.

“I’m sorry, Fuji-san,” she said. “You should go to the doctor.”

“We can take you,” Junko offered. The solemn tone of her voice gave Makoto pause. He had never seen her seem so serious. Even on performance days or times of stress, Junko was a force of nature. She had a bouncy sort of way about her, marching to the beat of her own drum when the others seemed too depressing. Seeing her so sobered only served to make Makoto’s heart sink into his stomach that much more.

Chihiro looked up at him, as if asking him what to do, and he couldn’t come up with any good answers.

—

Makoto went to visit Chihiro after their trip to the doctor, but they only confirmed what Mukuro had said earlier: they’d fractured their fifth metatarsal. Dancer’s fracture. They truly wouldn’t be dancing for weeks.

More than anything, they seemed upset about their duet. This season, Chihiro had gotten the chance to choreograph their own number. One of their choreographers, Kizakura Koichi, had helped, but it was the first time Chihiro had ever gotten to create their own number. They’d been incredibly proud of it, and had already started putting in the work with Makoto to get it memorized, practiced, and perfected.

“And now I can’t dance it anymore,” they’d mourned, staring down at their injured foot. “Now it was all for nothing.”   
“No, it wasn’t,” Makoto had countered. “We could probably do it next season! You’ll be dancing like normal by then.”

When he said that, Chihiro had simply sighed. “Who even knows? Besides, I heard from Celeste that we might be doing a traveling show next season. They’ll want to the best of the best; I doubt they’d have room for this number.”

Makoto had done his best to cheer Chihiro up, and while they’d been grateful, it didn’t seem to make too much of a difference. He left feeling dejected, mostly on his friend’s behalf.

Rehearsals were still slated to go on as normal, though, so Makoto showed up bright and early the next morning. Early enough, in fact, that nobody else was in the studio warming up when he arrived.

Except for Kyoko, of course. She was tucked away in her usual corner, sitting on the floor with one leg tucked into her groin and the other stretched out in front of her as she reached out to touch her toes.

Makoto lingered in the doorway for a moment before clearing his throat to get her attention. When she sat up, he offered her a smile. “Good morning, Kirigiri-san!”

She seemed to consider him before she spoke. “Good morning, Naegi-san,” she replied, lip quirking up in the corner. It took him a second to realize she was grinning at him, but once he did, his mood brightened just a bit as he took a spot along the wall.

The two of them stretched in silence until others began to show up. Leon wasn’t among them, but Makoto knew he would be coming in soon enough for the meeting they were having after warm-ups. Originally, it had been scheduled to discuss the impact of Leon leaving, such as dances that might be canceled or reassigned. Makoto suspected that, given their recent injury, Chihiro’s dances would be discussed as well.

Once everybody had found their way to the studio, warm-ups began, a little earlier than usual. Makoto followed along with the teacher, his thoughts half with the lesson and half with Chihiro. What they’d said yesterday about the pair’s duet still rattled around in his head. While he hadn’t choreographed it in the way his friend had, he had put work into helping. The two of them had already mapped the steps, practiced the dance, started memorizing the moves. Makoto had been excited for it, to get the chance to help Chihiro bring the dance to stage. He couldn’t help but be a little bummed that they wouldn’t be able to perform it.

Like it had started, warm-ups ended early. Once they did, Leon entered the room, followed by Chihiro on crutches. Immediately, they had the entire room’s attention, several people concerned with how they were doing. Chihiro placated them all with smiles and assurances, but Makoto could tell it was a little forced. Nevertheless, the room soon fell silent as everybody else trickled in. First came a few of their choreographers, who each offered their own greetings to the entire group, before the person leading the meeting finally stepped inside.

Togami Byakuya was the kind of person that made the entire room shut up when he walked in, whether they wanted to or not. After all, his family owned and managed their entire company, meaning he held their shows and jobs in the palm of his hand. A strange thought at times, considering that he had been dancing as one of them a few years back. Even then, however, he had held a sort of distance from them. He’d always had this air about him, that he knew he was better than everybody around him, and they needed to act according or face the consequences. It suited him better now that he was above them than it had before.

“As most of you know,” he started. “We are now down two dancers, as Kuwata-san will be leaving us and Fujisaki-san has been injured. As such, certain dances may have the partners reassigned or be canceled.”

He looked down at the clipboard he was holding, which had (Makoto presumed) a list of dances being adjusted, and started speaking.

“Kuwata-san’s solo is, obviously, being canceled,” he read off. “As well as his dance with Kirigiri-san.”

Makoto glanced over at Kyoko as Togami spoke. She had no obvious reaction, face remaining impassive. As if she knew he was staring, however, she turned to meet Makoto’s eye. Embarrassed, he whipped his head around to look at Togami, who was still listing numbers.

“Ikusaba-san,” he called. “Kizakura-san believes he can adapt the choreography of your dance with Kuwata-san into a solo, so you two will be proceeding with that.” 

She nodded, despite the fact that Togami didn’t even lift his head to make eye contact with her. Koichi did, however, and he threw her a grin.

“Enoshima-san, your dance with Kuwata-san will be taken over by Ishimaru-san instead. As for Fujisaki-san…”

Togami finally paused, taking a moment to remove the first sheet of paper he’d been reading from and move onto the next. Makoto took the moment to meet Chihiro’s eye, sending them an encouraging look. 

Whatever smile might have grown on Chihiro’s face was dashed away as Togami began to list off the various cuts made to the show due to their injury. Their solo was canceled, of course, as well as their duet with Taka. They’d also had a group number with Junko and Mukuro, but Togami had already reached out to another dancer and asked them to take the spot.

“And finally,” Togami said, as he reached the end of the list. “Naegi-san, considering that they choreographed it themselves, your dance with Fujisaki-san is also canceled.”

“You could still do the number!” Chihiro cut in. “I can’t dance it, but it’s choreographed. Naegi-san knows the steps, all he needs is a partner!”

Makoto blinked, not having anticipated Chihiro’s suggestion. He’d thought they would have wanted to perform their own dance. While they couldn’t anymore, he hadn’t expected them to suggest somebody else take their place.

Togami seemed similarly taken aback, but he thought about it for a long moment before he nodded. “Very well, but somebody else is still going to have to dance in your place,” he stated, the sharp look he threw to the rest of the room implying that he was expecting one of them to step up and take it.

“I would, but my schedule is already  _ so  _ full,” Hiyoko said. The bragatory note in her voice was not lost on most people in the room. It was well known that, even among what could already be considered a high-tier of talented dancers, she was one of the best. Between that fact, and that she was small enough to be partnered with any male dancer in the company and still be shorter than them, she was often in the most numbers during any given season or show. While she could certainly exaggerate, Makoto didn’t doubt that her calendar was packed to the brim as it was. He and Hiyoko already had one dance together in the coming show as it was.

Togami seemed to agree, but he didn’t look very happy about it. As the shortest among the guys in the company, Makoto didn’t have as much freedom in dance partners. He’d danced with girls taller than him on numerous occasions, but except for certain circumstances, it was usually avoided. Especially in numbers where the choreography required him to lift them, such as the one being discussed. This resulted in him being partnered with Chihiro or Hiyoko for most dances he did with a partner, as both of them were shorter than him. On some occasions, he would be partnered with Nanami Chiaki, a dancer from the other half of the company. Hope’s Peak, strangely, had two different sections to it. Makoto still didn’t quite understand the reasoning, but they mostly kept to different performances and show schedules. The only frequent exception to this was Hiyoko herself, who was usually in multiple numbers on each side.

Chiaki, however, wasn’t there at the moment, and Hiyoko had already stated she couldn’t take the extra dance. Togami, displeased, scanned the other members of the company standing before him, looking for a suitable replacement for Chihiro. Everybody else was taller than Makoto, but considering Celestia was only an inch and a half or so taller than him, he figured she would—

“You!”

Makoto’s head snapped up at Togami’s outburst. The taller man had one arm outstretched, finger pointed at Kyoko. She straightened under Togami’s gaze, but she didn’t falter or seem surprised. Rather, she kept the same neutral expression she’d been wearing. When she didn’t answer, seemingly waiting for him to speak, Togami pressed on.

“You were supposed to dance with Kuwata-san before he got transferred, correct?” He asked. “You’ve got an empty space, can you do it?”

She nodded, a sharp jerk of the head. “Yes,” she answered. “I can do it.”

“Great,” Togami said. “You guys can get started tomorrow.”

And just like that, Naegi Makoto found himself partnered with Kirigiri Kyoko for their first dance together.

**Author's Note:**

> i am doing my best to scramble along based on research, what i know from friends who dance, and my limited experience with dance in my youth. however, it’s not flawless, and i might make a few mistakes!!! while this is set in the united states for a few reasons (specific plot lines, backstory, side character’s actions, my own familiarity, etc) i am going to do my best to use japanese honorifics properly! an important part of the games and anime is the culture they originated in, and although i had to change the setting for the purposes of the story, it feels right to me to keep those honorifics as a part of that.  
> number of chapters subject to change, an update schedule will be set at a later date


End file.
